


brooklyn bridge?! this is the manhattan bridge!

by peraltiagoisland



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, initially posted on tumblr, then I forgot all about it fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13338597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peraltiagoisland/pseuds/peraltiagoisland
Summary: AU where Jake and Amy do actually meet on the Manhattan Bridge but Jake thinks he’s on the Brooklyn Bridge. Obviously, Amy thinks she has to correct him.They end up falling in love instead.





	brooklyn bridge?! this is the manhattan bridge!

**Victims reported being lured in by a mysterious yet charming woman or a suspicious but charismatic man into a quiet alley on Flatbush Avenue for various reasons. Said reasons differed from person to person, and seem to have been tailored according to their interests. After being led into the alley, victims were threatened at gunpoint to hand over all their money. They were then instructed to cover their eyes so the perpetrator could make their escape. Victims that refused to comply were knocked unconscious with a blunt object.**

 

* * *

 

_Two weeks, six days, plus three and a half hours.  
_

That’s how long Jake works the Flatbush Fraud muggings before he finally cracks it. Countless nights spent poring over this case, an unwavering patience and stamina fueled by sheer determination and an unhealthy amount of coffee. So many victims, witnesses, and suspects he had to question. And so little sleep.

But he _solves_ it. The culprits are a brother and sister- plus an unwitting accomplice in the form of their bookworm mother. Said mother chatted incessantly about the people in her book clubs, and gave away one too many details. Namely, how incredibly gullible some of them were.

_Two weeks, six days, plus five whole hours._

That’s how long Jake has been working the Flatbush Fraud muggings when he arrives at the ninth floor of a rundown apartment building in Williamsburg. With him are two uniformed officers named Chad and Don, not that it really matters but Jake is happy enough to ask after them on the way to arrest their culprits, and also- Charles. _Obviously_.

_Two weeks, six days, five hours, and two minutes._

That’s how long Jake was working the Flatbush Fraud muggings, until the Vulture barged in at the last second and crashed his party.

Well, it wasn’t so much a _party_ as it was _official police business_ , but there had been… champagne bottles Jake made Charles bring to pop open when he caught those sneaky siblings in crime.

(The book club thing was a detail that Jake scoured the bottom of the victim questioning barrel to find, okay. The victims all went to different book clubs, the perpetrators’ mother just happened to attend way too many of them.)

“I’ll take it from here, Peralta. You can thank me later,” the Vulture winks like the snake that he is as he says this, and Jake nearly punches the wall in fury because this is the second case Major Crimes has stolen right under his nose this month. Yeah, exactly. _This month._

And by Major Crimes, Jake really means the dirty disgusting excuse of a detective known to all in the Nine-Nine (and who knows, maybe in other precincts too) as the Vulture.

_One hour, twelve minutes, and fifty seven seconds.  
_

That’s how long the Vulture claims he took to solve Jake’s case. But to anyone with half a brain, that’s actually how long it took for the Vulture to march down to their precinct and demand that Jake’s case be handed over to Major Crimes.

But there’s nothing he can do- although, Jake does try something. He races back to the precinct with Charles to ask McGintley why the hell he didn’t fight harder to let the Nine-Nine keep the case; he had been so close. So close!

Except when Jake gets back he realizes McGintley left the office hours ago and the night shift had taken over the precinct. Oh right, Jake is working overtime as he has been for several days on this case, and he didn’t even brief Captain McGintley before he left in excitement to arrest his perps. That sounds about right.

“Jake, I’ll do everything in my power to fi-” Charles tries and fails to stifle a huge yawn- “to fight the Vulture so you get credit for the case.”

Jake takes pity on his loyal and devoted friend. Charles is clearly exhausted and after pulling a twelve hour shift he is in no state to stick around at work.

“Thanks buddy. But you and I both know once the Vulture strikes there’s no getting our case back.” Jake claps a hand on Charles’s shoulder. “Go home- and sleep.”

Charles lets out an even deeper, louder yawn and Jake averts his eyes as subtly as he can to avoid looking down Charles’s throat. He smiles very tiredly and wraps Jake into a comforting hug.

“Anytime, Jakey.” He lets go of Jake and begins packing his things. “You should head home too, you’ve been working even longer than I have.”

Charles is right- Jake’s shift had technically ended at 8pm, but it’s closing in on midnight.

He doesn’t go home, though, and it’s very understandable why.

Any detective that gets their case stolen by the Vulture always gets filled with this strange adrenaline that makes them the best detective ever. Or, the best detective their abilities allow them to be.

Which is why Jake’s only happy to bump into Rosa who had elected to stay and work late in the break room rather than go home too.

She’s just as happy to see him- or, y'know, as happy as Rosa can appear to another human being.

“Dude.” Rosa beckons Jake over wearily and Jake immediately takes the seat across from her. “Sucks that you just got Vultured.”

He nods solemnly and drinks his champagne sadly (well he couldn’t let it all just go to waste, could he?). “Yeah. It’s like he has something against me or something.”

“Mmhmm. Solve this case for me, it’ll make you feel better. I’ve almost got it but I’m too tired and you’re running on anger and adrenaline.” She leans back in her chair and starts dozing off.  
Jake understands immediately and reads through everything Rosa has. They are both really good detectives equally capable of solving this case, obviously, but as mentioned earlier: Jake is pissed about getting his case stolen. That drive and hunger to tackle another case will make him solve this faster. It is the same case when Rosa, or any other detective for that matter gets their case stolen.

Jake solves Rosa’s case two hours and half a bottle of champagne later. Rosa, on the other hand, drank two and a half bottles because she was getting bored of coffee.

It is thus both a good and a bad thing that the champagne is weak and has no kick. They are able to effectively do their jobs, but they miss out on being hammered. Not even slightly tipsy. Which is a bad thing in Rosa’s book, since she drank to… Jake isn’t sure either, actually.

Anyway, they take about half an hour to discuss and confirm that Jake is right, and also to get other officers as backup to make Rosa’s arrest. By the time they track down and travel to where the perps are hiding out, it starts nearing three in the morning.

“You sure you day shift detectives couldn’t have made this arrest in the morning?” Night shift cop Michael groans as they climb up several flights of stairs. Making such a big arrest this time of night, or to be more accurate, very very early morning, is uncommon for the night shift. A big bulk of their cases are drunk and disorderlies.

“Nope. Peralta needs a win.”

“I do!” Jake wheezes in conjuncture with Rosa’s support. He really does need this win, although his lungs feel like they’re losing everything right now. Namely, air.

“We just climbed up ten flights of stairs,” Jake resists the urge to throw up. “This better be-”

“I’ll take it from here,” a familiar voice rolls out on Jake’s left, and it’s a voice he’d rather not hear. Like ever again.

“Seriously? It’s 3 am! It’s like you have something against me!”  
The Vulture grins wolfishly at Jake before kicking down the door and arresting the perps Jake and Rosa had worked especially hard to find.

“Who wouldn’t have something against you? Also- I’m covering the night shift for a buddy today. You’re welcome for saving your ass twice in a day, Peralta.”

Jake hears someone slam their fist against the wall and he’s surprised to find that it’s him and not Rosa. He then winces from the pain and resists the urge to yell.

He fails. He yells, all sorts of obscenities at the Vulture who only laughs in response. It’s too much for Jake and he ends up leaving.

He’s never walked with such purpose. Jake would’ve ran down the stairs, but the stairs are built kinda shoddily and he doesn’t wanna get hurt, okay?

So he walks down the stairs. He walks and he walks and he walks, out of the building and into the amber lit pavements and crosses the quiet roads of Downtown Brooklyn. He doesn’t stop, he just walks, and before he knows it he’s crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, where he finally stops to stare into the East River, dark and beautiful under the starry night sky. It feels vast and much bigger than him, much bigger than the Vulture, much bigger than all of Jake’s problems.

The East River stops Jake from angrily power walking all over New York City. Although if Jake’s being honest, he stopped walking because he got tired, and just happened to be standing on a bridge overlooking a river. But watching waves crash against waves, the wind making the waters dance as it fancies, Jake does feel a lot better.

Just then, Rosa calls him.

“Hey, dude. You doing okay?”

Jake feels bad. Rosa’s the one whose case got stolen, but here she is being a good friend even though she should be throwing stuff off a roof. Although, her calling Jake doesn’t compromise her ability to throw anything off a roof at all, so he forgets that thought.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I jinxed you by solving your case. Vulture’s definitely targeting me specifically. You got caught in the cross hairs.”

Rosa shrugs it off. “Nah, I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“You did something to him, didn’t you?”

“His car won’t start tomorrow morning, is all I’m saying.”

Jake chuckles. “Nice work, Diaz.”

“Yeah, he needs to be taken down a peg. You didn’t get too far, did you? You should go home.”

“I know,” Jake sighs. “I’m on the Brooklyn Bridge right now. I’ll be fine.”

“And I’ll be getting hammered. Bye.”

She hangs up before Jake can say anything else but he’s used to it so he just shoves his phone back into his pocket.

“Um, excuse me? Sir?”

Jake turns around and nearly jumps at the sight of a very, _very_ beautiful girl. He’s half sure he’s hallucinating this, and it’s not an invalid assumption since he’s been getting five hours of sleep… this whole week. In total. So yeah, the pain from getting not one but two cases stolen from the Vulture within the span of a few hours, plus the exhaustion from non-stop work, has probably made his mind conjure the hottest woman possible as a… coping mechanism? Damn, Jake’s mind is the best.

She’s in yoga pants too. This has got to be some sort of fever dream. He probably passed out sometime ago and in several hours he’ll wake up in a dark alley with no idea how he got there.

“Yes Ma'am?” His lips form teasing words in response to the formal way she addressed him. Come to think of it, no one’s called Jake ‘Sir’ in a long time. Probably not ever, if he’s being real with himself. His playfulness elicits a shy giggle, but still Jake tries not to look this girl directly in the eye because his heart keeps pounding faster and it’s not just the coffee and exhaustion’s doing.

Damn, she has a gorgeous laugh. It’s short and feels slightly forced but the way her eyes crinkle ever so slightly around the edges and just… the very sound of her nearly sets Jake’s heart on fire.

No- come on. No way. Jake isn’t having that cliched love at first sight crap right? This is probably just… cholesterol, yeah. High blood pressure from all the anger and coffee and just overall horrible diet. Yeah, he isn’t falling in love! He’s just slowly dying!

“Haha yeah, I was just wondering if you’re meeting anyone here?” She interrupts his thoughts, which isn’t really interrupting anything because they are just thoughts. Stupid thoughts about how ethereally gorgeous she is.

“Why, you planning to murder me?” Jake shakes his head in regret as soon as he says this, and it gets him a look of confusion and… is that intrigue? Interest? Oh god, was Hot Girl a serial killer all along? Jake has the worst luck.

“Okay, no- but now you saying this makes me worry that you’re planning to murder me. I was just asking because you said on the phone earlier that you were on the Brooklyn Bridge? But that’s wrong. You’re actually on the Manhattan Bridge. And if you were planning on meeting someone on the Brooklyn Bridge you’d be in the wrong place.”

“Oh,” Jake nods, his head hazy because of fatigue but he still mostly gets what she’s saying, which is an achievement given how distracting her lips are. Damn it, Jake is an idiot. “No I’m not meeting anyone here.”

She smiles. “That’s good, I was just making sure.”

She starts jogging away and oh- that’s why she was wearing yoga pants! Jogging! Okay, that is irrelevant and distracting because no, this is not how he wants this interaction to end, he doesn’t want her to leave.

“Wait!” He calls out desperately. It’s four in the morning and he’s tired and can barely function but all he can think about is how he has to keep talking to this girl and it’s a purpose that feels more important than any case he’s ever solved.

“Yeah?” She stops running, and Jake catches up to her, wracking his brain for something to say.

“How…” he bends over to catch his breath, which is ridiculous because he couldn’t have ran more than twenty feet. “How do I know you’re not just saying that this is the Manhattan Bridge to… to trick me?”

She snorts, but still seems interested enough to stay, so Jake takes that as a good sign.

“What would be the purpose of that?”

Jake shrugs. “I dunno, maybe… it’s all part of your big elaborate plan to serial kill me. Like a serial killer.”

She rolls her eyes but a smile remains etched on her face, betraying her. “Well, how do I know this isn’t all part of your big elaborate plan to serial kill _me_?”

“Good point. Although- two serial killers trying to kill each other? That’s some Oscar-worthy stuff right there.”

She chuckles, a real one this time, and god it makes Jake want to pull out every joke he knows, search through every joke book in existence and tell them all to her so she can keep laughing.

“Well, if you were actually a serial killer, I’d have to arrest you right here,” she says, before pulling out a police badge. “It’s kind of my job.”

Jake gasps and his jaw drops exaggeratedly which seems amusing to the police woman.

“Whaaaaaat? Samesies! I’m a cop too!” He pulls his badge out from behind his hoodie and leather jacket.

“Guess neither one of us is a serial killer then.”

“Hmm, bummer. Although- two cops pretending to be serial killers as part of their plan to trick the other who they think is a serial killer into confessing? I’d watch that movie.”

She smirks. “Probably not as Oscar-worthy, but… yeah, me too.”

“Glad you think so.” Jake desperately reaches for something else to say. “So seriously- this isn’t actually the Manhattan Bridge right? You were just messing with me?”

“What? This is the Manhattan Bridge. Again, why would I mess with you? You, a random stranger I don’t even know.”

Jake gasps. “I thought we were more than that, Denise! Random strangers? Ouch.”

“My name’s not Denise, it’s Amy.”

Jake grins. “Amy, huh? My name’s Jake. So if this is the Manhattan Bridge, then where’s the Brooklyn Bridge? Hmm? Hah. Check and _mate_.”

She rolls her eyes and turns around, and Jake’s struck with a bone chilling fear that she’s going to run away from him.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the Brooklyn Bridge and you’ll see for yourself.”

Jake saunters right next to her, relieved as ever that she’s not abandoning him after all.

“So I can see for myself that I’m right? Sure.”

It’s a five minute walk away, according to Amy, and there’s pretty much only silence between them until Jake notices Amy shiver.

“Hey, you okay?” He immediately shrugs his leather jacket off and puts it around Amy’s shoulders. A small, very small and dark disgusting part of him wants to wrap Amy into a big warm hug and snuggle her until she stops feeling cold, but as she said earlier, they are still technically practically strangers.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just slightly chillier than weather forecasts predicted. But I’m not cold so I don’t need the jacket.” She shrugs the jacket off and hands it back to Jake.

“Take the jacket, you’re clearly freezing. I only wear this to look cool anyway, like my friend Rosa taught me. She didn’t actually tell me to get a leather jacket, she’s just the coolest person I know and she wears leather jackets all the time.”

Amy relents and puts the leather jacket on. “Sorry I took your cool jacket. You must be feeling so lame right now.”

Jake chortles and his laughter warms him up in a way no jacket ever could. “Worth it. Jacket looks way better on you.”

Amy tucks her hair behind both her ears and Jake ponders what that could mean.

“Anyway,” he continues. “Why are you jogging at four in the morning? Since it’s so cold. Who the hell jogs at four in the morning anyway?”

Amy sighs, but it’s more at her expense than Jake’s. “I usually work the night shift but I had tonight off. Couldn’t sleep though so I decided to go for a run. What about you? Why were you brooding on Manhattan Bridge at 4am?”

“First of all-” he corrects. “It’s Brooklyn Bridge you’re talking about there, Amy.”

“Not true at all, but go on.”

“Secondly, I was not brooding, I was angry. About something that happened at work.”

“So, brooding.” She smiles rather cheekily at him, although she tries to keep it subtle. “What happened at work? Do you work the night shift too?”

Jake sighs. “Nope. Just super dedicated to my job. Also this jackass from Major Crimes stole two of my cases in one night. The second case wasn’t even technically mine! I just helped solve it because I was so pissed about losing the first one.”

Amy pats him sympathetically on the shoulder, and strangely all the suffering he went through earlier seems worth it for this one fleeting moment of minimal intimacy.

“On the bright side… we’re at Brooklyn Bridge?” Amy flashes a forced toothy grin and Jake can’t help but smile as his nose lets out a hard exhale, because looking at her is looking at the stars in the sky. The ones that burn bright and twinkle amongst the darkest and gloomiest of clouds.

“Yeah… you’re right. This is the Brooklyn Bridge. I was wrong.”

Jake’s struck with that fear again. The knowledge that whatever dispute they had keeping them together is no longer relevant and it makes little sense for them to stay together. But Jake doesn’t want that at all. He wants to stay with Amy, and talk with her until the sun comes up. Which to be fair, isn’t even that long a time. He struggles to say something, anything at all.

“Yeah… I’m sorry about being so, y'know, defensive about Manhattan Bridge actually being Brooklyn Bridge.”

She grins. "You sure were, Jake. But it’s okay, you were probably tired from working so many cases.”

“ _And_ getting them stolen,” he reminds her.

“ _And getting them stolen.”_

“Yeah…” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m usually really good with bridges. What their names are, where they’re located. My favorite bridge is the Great Wall of China. Can’t wait to see it when I go to London someday.”

Amy nods, but then stops short and freezes, looking up at Jake in horror. Jake resists the urge to laugh but is also afraid he’s taken it too far and is driving her away.

“You think… that the Great Wall. Of _China_ \- is in _London_?”

“Yeah, its why I like it so much! They named it after China, but built it in London! It’s hilarious.”  
Just then, they’re interrupted by a ringtone, which can only be Amy’s because Jake’s ringtone is the _Funky Cold Medina._

“Hello?” She answers. “Oh my god. Okay. Okay. Yes I am. I’ll be right there.”

Oh no. Jake is not getting a good feeling about this.

She finally hangs up the phone.

“Sorry, I need to go. Work emergency!” She removes Jake’s jacket and passes it back to him.

“Wait!” Jake yells out as Amy runs off in the opposite direction, his arms full of the jacket that already smells of her.

He never got her number. Or her last name. Or her favorite song. Restaurant. Movie. _Nothing_.

And crap! She probably thinks he’s an idiot who thinks that the Great Wall of China is in London! Who’d think that? It’s called the Great Wall of China for a reason! Although it would be pretty funny if it had been built in London, but again, not the point.

“At least I’ll never see her again,” he says, and it’s meant to be a form of self-reassurance but Jake doesn’t sound so sure it’s a good thing. Never seeing Amy again.

But he’s wrong.

A week later, Terry taps the edge of Jake’s desk with the edge of his fist.

“Yeah Sarge?”

“Your new partner just transferred in, Peralta. Meet Detective Santiago. She just got promoted, but she’s very promising and more than capable enough to be your partner.”

Jake gets up to begrudgingly greet whichever overeager new hire they tossed at him- when he nearly gets a heart attack.

It’s not the cholesterol this time. Or the high blood pressure. Jake’s not even sure if he has either of those because he never goes to the doctor.

“Amy?”

She looks equally shocked, although should they really have been? They knew they were both cops in New York, chances of meeting again because of police work had been slim but not _that_ slim. Although… getting assigned as partners a week after randomly meeting? What were the chances of that?

“J-Jake?”

Terry looks between the two of them, not sure what to make of this situation.

“So… seems like you two know each other. Great. Peralta, brief Santiago on the robbery case that got called in this morning. You’ll be working it together.”

Terry walks away and Jake wants to call him back and is ready to pathetically plead ’no please don’t leave me’ if necessary.

But he’s instead rooted to the spot and extremely tongue-tied.

“So… this case.” Amy awkwardly speaks up when the silence gets too much. “Tell me what you know?”

They get into an uncomfortable discussion about the case but it still works, no matter how feebly, and they find their first lead.

There’s silence in the car ride over until Jake can’t take it anymore.

“Look, I don’t think the Great Wall of China’s in London, okay?”

“Uh… what?”

Jake clears his throat. “I know, I must’ve sounded like an idiot, and you’re definitely horrified to have me as a partner. So even if it makes things awkward for a while I’m not gonna let you think I’m a bad detective or anything. I pretended to think the Great Wall of China’s in London. I… lied about that because I didn’t want you to go.”

Amy’s staring at him wistfully but Jake doesn’t notice this because he’s stiffly staring straight ahead to make this confession easier for him.

“Why didn’t you want me to leave?”

“I kinda… liked you. You were- god, you were _really_ cute, okay? And maybe I was tired and that made me get all crazy.”

“Were you also lying about thinking the Manhattan Bridge was the Brooklyn Bridge?”

Jake shook his head. “Nope, that was real. For a while at least. I guess I really am an idiot. Just not as big an idiot as I pretended to be. I don’t know what I was thinking, pretending to be stupid is not how you get a girl to like you. Anyway, can we please just forget about this?”

“What if I don’t _want_ to forget this?”

Jake misunderstands and his reaction is rash and hurting. “Seriously? You won’t even do me this one favor-”

“ _What if,_ ” she interrupts pointedly. “I didn’t think you were that big an idiot- okay never mind. I _did_ think you were that big an idiot. But, what if I also thought that you were… cute?”

Jake nearly crashes the car.

“Wait, what?”

“I thought you were cute too, okay? And I thought about you and I felt like the idiot because I should’ve gotten your number but I didn’t, and-”

Jake pulls over, and before Amy can even react he’s unbuckling his seat belt and leaning in for a kiss.

It’s soft and sweet and yearning. But also reassuring and hopeful. His hands are along the side of her face and in her hair and he feels so warm, and it’s so good, kissing him, being in his space.

“You thought I was cute?” He asks in between kisses.

“Mmhmm,” Amy agrees and pulls Jake closer, shutting him up with her lips. “So cute. And hot too.”

“I wanna-” he exhales. “I wanna ditch work and play hooky with you.” He feels Amy stiffen, which he finds to be somewhat expected. “But I know we can’t do that.” She relaxes slightly but there’s still that tense feeling in her, that’s realized by kissing Jake in his car they’re forgoing doing their jobs. Their important crime solving jobs. “So before we go interview these witnesses, will you promise to go on a date with me later?”

Amy pulls away and beams at Jake. He swears, she’s even more beautiful with her lips slick and slightly swollen. “I promise.”

They keep that promise, and it’s the most magical first date either of them has. They visit all four bridges in New York City and Jake doesn’t have to worry about Amy running away from him.

They solve their robbery case the very next day, and high five about how they’re amazing crime-solving and sex having partners. Of course, they don’t declare this in public.

 

* * *

 

Years later, on January 14, 2014, Detectives Peralta and Santiago conduct rooftop surveillance on 397 Barton Street. They arrest two men for possession of narcotics and expertly trick them into thinking they were a lost couple looking for directions.

Their cover story however… isn’t so much a lie because of how similar it is to their own.

“Brooklyn Bridge? We met on the Manhattan Bridge!” Jake resists laughing at Amy’s faux anger, as he plays along and eventually throws away a cheap ring he bought for a dollar that one time.

“Damn, I’m sad about being arrested, but I’m glad you two are back together.”

“We never broke up, dude. Not that that’s any of your business. Hands on your head.”

After all the paperwork is done and all the perps are processed, Jake slides an arm around Amy’s shoulder, and she sighs in delight at the warmth it brings her.

“Ready to go home, babe?” She asks, looking up sweetly at him because it’s been a long night and all she wants to do is cuddle up in bed with Jake.

“Not just yet. I need you to put on this blindfold.”

“What?” She grabs the blindfold in disbelief. “Jake, don’t mess with me.”

He’s grinning and excitement threatens to burst out of his badly restrained smile. “C'mon. Put on the blindfold, follow me, and don’t take it off until I say you can.”

“Are you finally going to murder me?” She teases, but puts on the blindfold anyway.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he says with an air of mystique as his fingers ghost the back of her waist, guiding her as he had promised to do.

The walk to wherever Jake’s taking her is bumpy and long and kind of scary really. People probably saw her blindfolded and gave them strange looks, and Jake probably didn’t care.

“How long until we get there?” She complains. “This is the worst murder ever.”

He laughs and plants a kiss on the side of her cheek, and as he does she feels them stop.

“You can take off the blindfold now.”

Slowly, Amy pushes the blindfold up and away from her eyes, only to realize she’s on the Manhattan Bridge. Where they met.

That’s not the kicker. Jake’s on one knee, holding a ring in front of her, and for a highly acclaimed detective it takes her an embarrassingly long time to realize what he’s doing.

“Oh my god, Jake are you-”

“Amy Santiago,” he interrupts. “You have made me the happiest man alive. I spent way too much money on this ring. Definitely over a dollar, and it’s definitely going to put me in more crushing debt. But it’s worth it because I love you, I love you so much- and I did not realize how hard this bridge is. My knee hurts a lot now so I’ll just ask the damn question you know I’m going to ask, because what else would someone on one knee with a ring- never mind, I’m getting off track, and this is sounding less and less romantic. Oh screw it, Amy Santiago, will you marry me?”


End file.
